


make it home

by Wino



Series: The Darcy fix no one asked for [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcyland, F/F, Happy Ending, Nat is always awesome, Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers are good people, Some feels, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, bed sharing, but good feels, fluff hopefully, hopefully, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wino/pseuds/Wino
Summary: She would have loved to say ‘yep, best night of sleep I ever had’, but it would have been a lie.





	make it home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/gifts).



> So, halp! So much halp with this fiction.  
> I'm leaving notes on cultural stuff at the bottom of the thing, so yep.  
> This story is gifted donated and regaled (because I can't remember the correct verb and tense!) to the awesome [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi), who despite having a super bad day has been a gem and helped me so much with beta-ing a fiction she had no obligation to. She's awesome and amazing and if you haven't read her stuff do it because she's that good.  
> I hope you like it, because you deserve all the praise.
> 
> Special thanks to < a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomsoftly/pseuds/bloomsoftly">bloom as well because girl, seriously, you're like... beta-ing from 3 to 10 projects of mine a week? You deserve a monument.
> 
> So yup story's over, hope you enjoy :)

“The girl isn’t sleeping.”

Darcy raised her head from the magazine she was reading and followed Dr Cho’s gaze.

Wanda Maximoff was in her brother’s room, and they were talking and chuckling quietly in a language she couldn’t understand. Sokovian was something she’d never studied, but she supposed she’d have to fix that; if Nat loved it when she understood and spoke Russian with her, it was only logical that they’d appreciate another conversation partner too (she didn’t count Clint, he spoke like fifty languages to her seven and took great pleasure in showing it off).

At first glance there was absolutely nothing wrong with Wanda; she was smiling softly and her brother was animated and laughing as much as he could while pinned to a bed (forced bed rest must be painful for a speedster), but then her eyes lingered on the lines of the other woman’s face. She had dark circles under her eyes that Darcy wouldn’t have otherwise noticed and her face pinched at the strangest of times.

Darcy looked back at the doctor.  “These are some dark circles, but Steve didn’t report anything about a slower performance than usual? I mean, wouldn’t they have noticed if she hadn’t slept in days?”

Her brother must had noticed for sure such a thing. Then again, they could have had the discussion already and he was letting it go, judging by the looks he shot her when she wasn’t looking.

Dr Cho pursed her lips. “Maybe, but she’s not getting enough sleep, that’s for sure.” She left soon after, back to her rounds.

Darcy went back to her magazine, but every now and then she’d raise her eyes and stare at the girl.

* * *

 

She resolved early on to keep an eye on Wanda.

The girl had breakfast at the crack of dawn, spent the morning with her brother, went to training with Steve, had lunch, training with Natasha and then after dinner she’d spend every single moment back with her brother again, at least until Dr Cho kicked her off the medical floor. Darcy had initially assumed that this would be it, that Wanda would finally get into bed even if it was well over eleven in the evening, but the girl did not, in fact, go to her rooms. She went back to the common area and proceeded to make herself a huge pot of something that definitely didn’t smell like coffee (it didn’t even look like coffee… it sort of looked like something Bruce would have drunk had he been here, and the thought brought a pang to Darcy. She missed her friend). Out of excuses to linger around the common area and unwilling to confess her bonafide stalking, Darcy had to retreat to Jane’s rooms.

This same exact pattern repeated itself for three days before Darcy found the courage to actually smell and try the thing that pretended to be coffee.

It wasn’t. It was gross and slimy and tasted of roots.  
“What is… that?!” she choked on her cup and tried her best not to spit it out. It was a close call, but she managed to keep it down. And then the aftertaste kicked in, and she suddenly wished she’d thrown it up because this was 10 times more gross.

Wanda Maximoff hadn’t really expected her to taste it, apparently, because her lips twitched in amusement and incredulity. “It’s chiko..chik-” she tasted the words in her mouth, “Цикорийный кофе.” She ended up with in the end, helplessly. Darcy perked up at the words she could understand. “Chicory coffee?” She pointed at her mug, “this is not coffee. This is bad, bad stuff that pretends to be coffee to catch us unaware and kill us all.”

Wanda smiled and shrugged, “it’s what we drink in Sokovia. There is no americano in Sokovia, only chicory.” Her eyes got a very nostalgic and faraway look at the memory. It made Darcy’s heart melt a bit.

“You drink this all the time? Are you serious?” Her horror at the idea of drinking roots all the time was palpable.

Wanda nodded and got herself another refill. It was the third she was drinking that night.

“Okaaay,” Darcy prolonged the word, “and it’s cool… I mean no, it’s disgusting and gross but maybe it’s an acquired taste I can’t yet understand and it’s fine, whatever floats your boat. Cool. Yep.” She gave another careful sniff to the mug. Nope, it still smelled awful.

The girl chuckled, “No, it is bad, but it is what we drink and it works.”

Darcy peered at her from behind her mug, undecided on whether or not to throw it all away. Wanda looked really tired, like she was practically ready to drop dead on her feet. “So, uhm, not really my business, but… why are you brewing atrocities in the middle of the night? It’s…” she looked at the clock in the kitchen, “well after midnight.”

Wanda gave a noncommittal shrug, “It is not very late.”

“Uh uh,” Darcy nodded, “Totally not late, especially if you get up at five and please don’t deny it, Helen says you’re at your brother’s side the moment she opens the ward at seven, and FRIDAY told me you have breakfast at six.” She gave her the best pointed look she could manage at midnight with an aftertaste of death in  her mouth. She pulled it off quite well thanks to her practice with Jane, if she had to say so herself because Wanda looked sheepish all of sudden.

Darcy’s eyes softened and she approached the girl, “Wanda, what’s wrong?”

The girl retreated a bit into herself, and Darcy immediately halted her movements. She shrugged again--she did that a lot--and said, “I’m not sleepy.”  And yep, she looked ready to yawn and keel over.

“Absolutely,” Darcy nodded, “not sleepy at all. Wanda, you’re ready to fall asleep at any second and the racoon look you’re sporting could give the Winter Soldier a run for his money.” The last part was whispered because Steve was still touchy about his BFF.

“Come on,” she added brightly, holding a hand in her direction, “let’s go to your rooms and get you into bed.” Her heart flip-flopped a bit when Wanda took her hand and followed, albeit reluctantly.

* * *

 

Wanda’s  and Pietro’s rooms were squeezed between the floor that was now empty because Bruce was AWOL and Natasha’s quarters. Darcy was secretly pleased Nat now had a buffer between her rooms and Bruce’s, because the events of Sokovia had shaken the Russian assassin more than she’d let people know, and Darcy worried about her (the moment Bruce or the Hulk walked those doors again? Darcy was kicking them. Either. Both. She didn’t care. She was kicking them so hard…).

FRIDAY dutifully opened the elevator and then Wanda’s room.

Compared to Darcy’s, who was bunking with Jane in a tiny guest room on Thor’s apartment slash floor when she wasn’t kicked to the living room, it was huge. It had a beautiful view of the city, all glass panels and steel in the windows. A huge bed that should be able to host at least three Hulks was at the opposite corner of the room, and there was even a big, flat screen TV.

It was grand, it was luxurious... and it was making Wanda more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Okay,” Darcy started slowly, unsure of what exactly was the problem. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you’re fidgeting like a deer in front of a hunting rifle so I have to ask; what’s wrong with these rooms? Do you not like them?”

“They’re...nice.” Wanda had released her hand and was trying to fold into herself again. Looking at the young woman pressed in her red shawl, Darcy noticed how tiny she was. Not short, because she still had almost an inch on her, but she looked so lost and alone in such a big room that was every inch as grandiose as a set of rooms in Stark Tower. She felt terribly out of place.

Wanda shrugged, “I am grateful for these rooms.”

“But they’re not home?” she asked gently. Wanda didn’t answer.

Darcy nodded. “Okay, tell you what, tonight you can bunk with me and get some shut-eye, which you need, Wanda, like ten days of it. How does that sound?”  
The girl didn’t answer, but her face lit up with a hopeful smile and she quickly followed without a backward glance.

* * *

 

Jane was already asleep, which was a _miracle_ and Darcy had no time to look at a gift horse in the mouth. She peeked into her room and yep, she was sleeping like the dead, her face scrunched in concentration even during slumber, her whole body wrapped like a burrito under the covers.

“Okay,” she nodded, placing a finger on her lips, “boss lady is being a nice burrito for the next seven hours or so, if we can keep it that way.”

Wanda looked at her quizzically. Darcy waved her hand dismissively, “Don’t mind me, let’s get some sleep.”  
She pointed at the coffee table in the living room (which was Jane’s living room, but doubled nicely as Darcy’s bedroom, for now). She pressed at it a bit and unrolled her futon, which had been $200 on Amazon and could be single, double bed and coffee table? Yes, please. So worth it when you followed an astrophysicist around for a living, not to mention the comfort of having it during her college days.

She stood proudly in front of it, ready to crawl under the soft covers when she noticed that yep, she and Wanda were still a hundred percent dressed and the girl even had her combat slash training boots in.

“Okay, I…” she coughed, “didn’t think this through. I’ll go fetch you some PJs.”

She would have loved to say _‘yep, best night of sleep I ever had’_ , but it would have been a lie.

Wanda was a terrible futon partner.

She tossed and turned in the throes of a nightmare for almost the whole night, and every time Darcy tried to comfort her, the girl stiffened so much it was ridiculous to even attempt.

But the next morning, she looked as lucid as ever, even oblivious of what had happened the previous night.

 _Or she’d been trained to be a very good actor_ , Darcy mused as the girl approached the kitchen, hopefully not trying to brew more of that lethal concoction. But her smile was sincere and when she squeezed her hand in thanks, Darcy knew she had done right by her.

She’d done worse to help people catch some sleep. She’d share with a Bilgesnipe if it meant Wanda was getting some much needed rest, poor girl.

The dancing of her insides when Wanda had smiled at her had nothing to do with it.

* * *

 

The following nights, Wanda told her she’d sleep in her room, claiming that she couldn’t depend on someone else sleeping with her all the time like Pietro used to do, and she let it go with a cheery ‘Go you!’.

If Wanda decided to spend more time in the rooms it could only be a good sign.  It was however clear that after a few days, she had reverted back to not getting sleep and clinging to her brother again. Her still-recuperating brother who according to Dr Cho would be in medical for at least three more weeks. Yeah, no, not an option.

She spent the day waiting for her chance. She’d stopped Jane’s caffeine intake at five (she usually stopped caffeinating the boss at seven, with the hopes of sleep, but Jane had agreed that tonight they could take an early night in exchange for two benders sometime next week), she’d unwrapped her futon _and_ she’d even gotten out the good pajamas (the ones that didn’t involve a sloth in a nightcap _that had nothing to do with politics_ ).

She knocked on Wanda’s door at eleven that night. She could still feel Tony gleefully announcing that nope, he wasn’t going to bed tonight, but she’d deal with him tomorrow morning.

Wanda peeked from her door. “Yes?”

“Hey, Wanda, sorry if I’m bothering you…” She tried to look into her room, “were you sleeping already?” She would bet Mew Mew that she wasn’t.

“Ah, no…” Wanda stuttered, “not yet. You need something?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she smiled, unleashing the puppy eyes she’d used with Clint to get him help her contaminate the vents of the lab with purple glitter. “I’m sorry to ask you but Jane’s doing the burrito thing again and we used to share the bed a lot and I can’t risk waking her up and Nat will probably have my head if I wake _her_ up for this and I can’t ask Tony-” she took a deep breath. She was totally lying, Jane was jealous of her space and Nat would totally share with her if she asked (she wouldn’t sleep a wink, but she’d share), but she hoped Wanda didn’t pick up on that . “...And I’d _really_ appreciate it if we could share, tonight?” She added a sad face for good measure.

Wanda hesitated and Darcy exaggerated the sad puppy look until she smiled hesitantly and agreed.

“Great, thank you so much!” She cheered.

They stood awkwardly in front of her door.

Darcy giggled a bit. “I’m kind of waiting for you to let me in or get some pajamas and come with me?”

“Oh!” Wanda blushed pink and disappeared inside.

She left the door open.

Okay, Darcy was usually a classy creature who didn’t go around peeking into other people’s quarters, but she was kind of curious to see what the twins’ room looked like after a week, so she checked on Wanda and darted her eyes all over.

The room was as pristine and untouched as it had been before. Like it wasn’t even lived in.

There was only a pile of sheets in a corner, as close as possible to the wall.

What on Earth…

“Here, sorry…” Wanda cleared her throat. She had a pair of pink pjs in her hand.

Darcy refused to be embarrassed by being caught ‘snooping’ around (she really wasn’t, she hadn’t even moved from the front door) and instead gave the room another long look. The more she looked, the more this room seemed impersonal and as not-Wanda-ish as possible. It was like an hotel room or a guest room. Nondescript, neutral, and anonymous.

“Okay, thanks again for doing this,” she smiled at the young woman and took her hand. “Let’s go.”

The night was almost an exact repeat of the last time they’d shared a bed.

Wanda twitched, turned, tossed, but in the end slept almost six hours.  Worth it.

And that night, when she made to go to ‘bed’ in  her room, Darcy again offered her futon and company. And again, and again and again.

After five nights or so, Wanda started getting used to the feeling of not having only her brother close to her. The nightmares stopped and she didn’t flinch anymore at every tiny movement. Darcy was actually able to wrap her arms around her to comfort her any time she became agitated in her sleep, which was a plus all around.

But Darcy didn’t forget the empty room or the fact that there was no sign the quarters belonged to the Maximoff twins. Pietro would be released in two weeks--she had little less than that to fix it.

* * *

 

‘Fixing it’ proved to be a far harder mission than she’d assumed it would  be.

She needed to make the rooms more ‘homey’ to a couple of twins whose home (and nation) had been destroyed into nothingness, after their roots had been removed and they’d been forced to live on the streets for _years_. They were basically Ex-PoW, two against the world.

She suddenly had the unbidden image of two tiny grumpy kittens in a world too big for them. Well, filling the rooms with catnip didn’t sound too cool. Yeah, no. _But_ she could do some more colorful knick knacks, just in case.

The task of getting a set of rooms ready in two weeks was daunting, and she had no idea what the Maximoffs liked, and couldn’t very much ask them in person, because that would ruin the surprise.

“FRIDAY?”  
“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

So, she went for the next best thing. “Do you know where Steve is?”

“Captain Rogers is in the kitchen, Miss Lewis.”

Perfect. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

* * *

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

Steve stopped fiddling with the coffee pot and turned to her. Darcy didn’t believe for a second that she’d surprised him, what with super-hearing and all, but it was nice of him to try.

“Hello yourself, Darcy.” He smiled.

She smiled back, it was impossible not to, “Hello you, Steve. Sorry.”

“No problem, what’s up?”

“So,” she told herself she wouldn’t be too blunt. “I’m going to ask you an hypothetical question and please feel free to tell me if I overstep my boundaries. But I feel like you’re my best bet here.” She waited a beat. “What does ‘home’ mean to you?”

She suddenly felt she could check ‘Make Captain America fidget’ off her bucket list.

“What prompted this question, Darcy?” He asked delicately.

“I’m… kind of thinking of the Maximoff twins.”

Steve frowned, “is there anything wrong?”

“NO!” She answered quickly, and then, “Seriously, no. They’re adorable and nice and don’t worry it’s nothing wrong. I just… I think they’re lonely?” Steve’s frown eased, but he was still looking intently at her. “I mean, it’s always been them on the streets and now they’re in this big tower and they’re not together and yes I know it’s only for two weeks, but Wanda is really struggling to adapt to this new world, and I really don’t know how to make her feel at home?” His eyes had become sad. _Crap, okay, no, retreat, abort mission, abort._ “I’m sorry, Steve,” she said hastily, “I shouldn’t have asked you, I… I’m a terrible person.”

“No, no, Darcy, it’s fine,” Steve assured her. He then scratched the back of his head. “Frankly? At first, there was nothing that I could call home. I am now, thanks to my friends, but apart from that...” He shrugged.

Darcy felt reassured and disappointed at the same time by his answer. Thinking that they’d get better with time, while a bit obvious, gave her ‘hope’, sorta, but she had been hoping for something more ‘material’ than friendship to lean on.

Something must have shown on her face, because Steve reconsidered, “maybe something to draw on.” He said at the end, “it helps me focus and centre myself. Drawing is relaxing. You should find something they like and go with that.”

She nodded. “I see, thanks, Steve!” She smiled. While not very helpful, it was something she could work with.

Sam Wilson didn’t give her a much different answer. He was the Avenger’s psychological godsend slash personal enabler (no one could pile chips on the nose as well as Sam Wilson, no one!). His answer, however, apart from quoting the TLC manual (it’s Love, not love) by heart, involved colourful pillows and feathers. “My brother gave it to me from one of his travels. It’s my lucky item, it reminds me so much of him it almost feels like home.”

And yup. This gave her so many ideas.

Thank you, Sam.

* * *

 

They were snuggled into the futon in Jane’s living room of Thor’s quarters (and if you tried to pronounce it as Thor did, it became even more of a mouthful). It was raining buckets, and they were watching it pelt the windows of the room. It was kind of hypnotic, with its _tap tap tap_ on the glass.

Darcy yawned loudly, and Wanda used the moment she was distracted to steal a bit of the covers.

“Sneaky.” She said, mock hurt. The young woman giggled a bit. “I’m going to turn in, this rain is making my brain melt.”

And she fell back on the futon and made a great scene of fumbling for the missing covers. “Alas, I’ll die of cold!”

Wanda laughed, “It’s June!”

“Fancy that! In June!” She snagged a bit of the covers Wanda was draped to and pulled.

They fell laughing in a tangle of covers.

 _“Someone’s trying to sleep, children!”_ That was Jane.

They giggled harder. “Sorry, boss lady!”

The rain didn’t waver one bit, the wind howling outside despite the updraught wind effect being actually mitigated by the Tower (never be said that Tony Stark was not a genius).

“This reminds me of Novi Grad,” Wanda whispered.

Darcy tried very, very hard not to stiffen, to look too interested or too jump at the conversation starter. Because Wanda (and Pietro, for the few times they’d actually talked - Helen was a tyrant in her hospital wing - ) never talked about Sokovia.

“Oh?” Be cool, Darcy. be cool.

“Mh. In September we get this heavy rain and wind. Pietro and I would sneak into abandoned garages during that time. Best moment to find shelter for winter.”

Yeah. Darcy knew they’d grown up on the streets. She snuggled a bit closer and Wanda snaked an arm under her.

“Do you miss Novi Grad?”

Wanda considered this, and weighed her words for a while, “I do not miss the hunger. We did not have food, or shelter, for weeks. I do miss the people, not all. But it was home.”

“And now it’s all lost.” Darcy whispered.

“Yes,” Wanda sighed. “But not all people. We can always rebuild the church, or the square, but we cannot rebuild the people, or the memories… But we did not have much, really.”

“Well,” Darcy hedged, “you can always start making new memories here?”

“That is true,” she smiled, “but I will miss home.”

Darcy didn’t know how to reply to that, because it was true. She didn’t miss her foster homes, but she understood. She missed her adopted brother pretty badly, too.

“I had this pillow.” She started. Wanda’s eyes drifted to hers. “My grandmother made it for me, when I was tiny. So when I entered the system--the foster system--I always brought it with me. It made ‘home’ less far away.” She offered.

Wanda nodded, “we had something like that. A glass...лебедь? It is luck for Sokovians. We brought it with us when we joined Strucker. I do not know what it came of it.” She shrugged, and went for more covers.

Darcy’s breath caught. This _had_ given her ideas, and she knew who to bring this to.

* * *

 

“You want me to _what_?!”

“Please, Clint? _Please_? I’m begging you!”

“Nope, not happening. No, Darcy. Nope.”

“Nat! Clint doesn’t want to help me out with this!”

“Nat! Tell her no, Nat, seriously. _Nat_!”

* * *

 

Pietro was released on a Wednesday.

Wanda’s excitement was contagious and all over the Avengers facilities in the Tower people were smiling.

Dr Cho’s warnings to take it easy were heeded for exactly three seconds before Pietro went back to speeding around with his sister in his arms.

No one really had the heart to stop them. Freedom was a wonderful, beautiful thing.

And then Pietro almost pulled a muscle and they had to bodily wrestle them to the sofa. Well, Steve did, the others didn’t have much chance with Natasha out of the Tower.

After having shot down Tony and his ‘we’re alive’ party for the fourth time, it was concluded that a Movie Night was the way to celebrate.

And while the Avengers argued about what movie to watch, Darcy felt some sort of weird pride as she watched her big dysfunctional family (she was going to be mature and not point out the fact that Wanda hadn’t so much as looked at her since her brother had been out. She understood).

It was towards the ending that Natasha slipped into the room without being noticed, entered her field of vision and nodded.

Darcy made an excited noise that attracted the attention of everyone in the room. She blushed and coughed awkwardly. Natasha chuckled quietly.

“Sorry, sorry…” she said, “carry on.”

Tony shot her a suspicious look, but they let it go in favour of watching the little devils scram in front of the “Opopomoz” word (it was _June_ , why they were watching a Christmas movie was beyond her).

As soon as the movie was over, everyone retreated into their rooms.  
Darcy crossed her fingers and went to bed.

She didn’t even reach her floor when the elevator’s door dinged at… a completely different one that wasn’t Thor’s.

“FRIDAY?” she asked.

“Apologies, Miss Lewis. Miss Maximoff would like to speak to you.”

 _Oh_. Well, she had wanted to give them privacy, she knew how private Wanda was about her space.

“Yeah, I mean, sure, no problem… I’ll just-”

The elevator’s doors opened and Wanda bolted inside without waiting for her to exit.

“Hey-Oof!” She was being crushed. The girl had an extremely strong grip for one whose powers involved the mind and not the body.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

“...You’re welcome?” She returned the hug. She had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. “It was actually Nat, you know? I had no idea of where to find the thing, she went with Clint and retrieved it from Strucker’s castle. It’s a miracle it was intact, being made of glass and everything…”

Wanda smiled and dragged her to the Maximoffs’ rooms.

“Seriously girl, what do you _eat_? You’re basically carrying me, and I’m no Kate Moss…” Darcy complained jokingly.

The young woman laughed in response.

And yep, the glass swan was at the centre of the room, on top of the coffee table (that did not become a futon). There were also colorful sheets, doilies everywhere, a couple of handmade quilts, pillows and even a colored feather like Sam had suggested.

“Thank you so much. It looks so different!”

“You’re welcome” Darcy said with sentiment, “I know it’s not home… yet. But it might be? Besides, now it’s more colorful.”

Wanda’s smile was brighter than the sun.

* * *

 

Life went on and Wanda and Pietro settled right into the Avengers.

They ate, trained and slept at a normal pace.

And while Wanda was back to her affectionate self, Darcy kind of missed their nights on the living room in Jane’s rooms in Thor’s floor (and yep, this would be the eternal definition forever). She missed it, but it was so good to see that the young Maximoff had found her footing that she was more than willing to stomp on her loneliness for this.

“Shortstack, I’m hurt!”

Darcy started. “What’s up Tony? I didn’t start working on your case yet! You’ve been awake for…” She checked her clock, “no more than 12 hours? I still have like ten more before shutting down your labs!”

“Well no, nice try, you’re not touching my labs, not today. What I mean to saaay...” he was dragging this for longer than it was necessary, “was that I’m hurt that you never told me you were still bunking on your girlfriend’s floor!”

“...What? I’m not bunking on my gir- wait a minute.”

Tony smirked, “almost. No, seriously, why are you bunking in with Foster?”

Darcy stared at him like he had grown two heads. “Tony, that’s where I’ve always slept since London. Remember? Unpaid intern here!”

He looked at her strangely. “Okay, time to remedy to that. No more bunking on floors. Nope, no. I’ll give you a new room, somewhere. FRIDAY, check to see if we have free rooms upstairs, no buts Sparky, we’ll get you settled somewhere else. I bet you just _love_ when Thor’s home, yep…”

And he walked out, without waiting for any sort of excuse or answer or anything. Darcy smelled the coffee she had in her hands. Nope, it was coffee and not vodka.

What just happened?

* * *

 

The new rooms were fine.

Darcy spent two days to make them perfect. They were so her it was beautiful.

She felt so alone.

She’d been living and sleeping with someone for the last six years, adapting to silence during the night was harder than she thought it would be.

 _Knock, knock_.

She checked her clock, twice. 2am. That was weird.

She opened her door.

It was Wanda. She had a pillow in her hands and was wearing pjs.

She smiled “So, hey.” she fidgeted. “Pietro’s doing the burrito thing, and I’m not used to sleeping alone and Nat would kill me if I asked, so I wondered, do you want to share tonight?”

Darcy stared. It was almost the exact words she’d said to her. _And with the same sad face._

She giggled a bit at that, and opened the door.

“Come in.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Notes, because yes.  
> * Russian is self-explanatory, but in case Chikornyi kofe is chicory coffee and lebed' is a swan.  
> * Chicory coffee is a thing. It's a disgusting, gross thing that tastes like death. I'm sorry for those of you who appreciate it, but this is my opinion.  
> Chicory coffee was used during the wars because the real thing (coffee) was heavily rationed like any other foreign item. So people made do with chicory, which had the same waking effect, not because of caffeine but because it was so. bitter. In Italy we stopped drinking it after the end of the recession after the war, but in Eastern countries (like Poland), it actually stuck around a bit more. It made sense to me that the fictional nation of Sokovia, being 'saved' by SHIELD and being so heavily sanctioned (remember that scene where Pietro stole the medicines for the people from the nearby city? Yeah) had to stick to less conventional foods and made them theirs (in my city we still eat Topinambur roots like there was no tomorrow and this is so scary to some apparently?).
> 
> Hope you liked it, please leave a comment on your way out? :)


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